WH40k: The Underlying Pain
by DodgeStreaker
Summary: Angron reflects back on his hatred and the misery he suffered from when he had unwillingly been pulled away from his homeworld of Necuria. But with that in mind, he also reflects on a fate he knows he's destined for, but he what he doesn't know is when and how it's going to come - Disclaimer: Warhammer 40k (c) Games Workshop


**A/N: Another Angron short. I do actually really love his character.**

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Pacing around the confined space of his private quarters, the brute-like Primarch couldn't even bare to stand still for even a moment. According to the ship's set chrono configuration that matched up with the orbital rotation of Terra's central time zone, it was late in the night and far from the hours that would bring dawn to the crew. Already he had tried a many times to resettle himself so that he may return to the once horrors of whatever he dared to dream of next, but regardless of everything he attempted to do, he was unable to calm himself enough to even lay down. For buried deep within his cranium the Nails were _singing_ , and they sung the songs of death and bloodshed.

He was craving combat, craving for war or anything that allowed him to get his hands buried deep within the enemy's throat. All he wanted to do was kill, _kill_ , and **kill** until he was finally coherent again. Was he not already though? His mind still felt as if it were there, in the reality of a restless night. He sighed.

Under all that blistering rage and primal predator instinct that had _literally_ been drilled into his head, he swore he felt a pain rising up inside of him. An emotion that wiggled its way into his chest and swelled as it made its home there, increasing the pumping of his two superhuman hearts and it almost made him feel flustered. The sensation, he knew, was more of a mental process than an actual psychical one, but the manifestation of it was still real.

 _Oh_ , did the Nails sing. Sing of home. Cry out for Necuria...

What he assumed to have happened was the taunting of his own subconsciousness, a nightmare he supposed. A memory was more like it and it had replayed itself to him like...Like it hadn't been so long ago since the real event had occurred. And no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't help but to feel ashamed. Why his father had bothered to 'save' him was far beyond his comprehension, call it love or not, it was a concept he couldn't understand. But it's not like his father could apprehend it either, the suffering he's put him through. He **should** have stayed! He **should** have fought and died alongside his fellow combatants! Any death is more honourable than him killing himself. That much was for certain.

Perhaps, just _perhaps_ if he could have explained it to the man when they had first met, maybe his demise wouldn't be so prolonged. The Nails. From the very beginning he _knew_ they were going to be his ultimate downfall; all he could never figure out is when or how it's going to happen. The damned things, they were the only reason he was still alive after that surgery. A false life support to replace what had been taken from him, a placebo that would eventually kill him, but all in the meantime fuel his wrath and make him what he is today.

Every day an inch of his sanity slips away as what remains of his brain is slowly destroyed. No one can save, _nothing_ can save him. He can't be fixed. They've turned him into a monster in flesh and blood, and he knows even in death he'll still be a monster.

They can't see it, they're all too blind from the episodes he cannot control. Can't see that underneath all that he's nothing but choked down misery and swollen pain, and that no one can help him...He's struggled to make them know, to make them _understand_ what's he's gone through and currently going through by _giving_ them what he has. But it wasn't the same...These Nails are his, and no one knows how they tick.

"No one can save me...Why couldn't you have understood that?" His breath was raspy and his voice was hushed as he sat down on the edge of his bed and felt some tears stream down his cheeks.


End file.
